An Ember In The Ashes Series Novels & Stories

He stands behind me, arms crossed, a shadow refusing to be drawn in. The old rogue begins to speak. “She came in the season between the moons. The one with no name. The one where wolves forgot their howls. She wore no crown. No mate-mark. No Alpha’s scent.” The hum continues beneath her voice, like breath rising from old earth. “She walked alone into the Bone Lands, where no pack claimed the soil. Her hands bled spiral. Her eyes burned red. Her name was ash. Her tether already severed.” A shiver ripples through the pack. No one looks at me.

Ember (As Ash) POV The hall glowed with firelight, shadows twisting over banners and stone, but the warmth of the flames couldn’t disguise the sharpness that lingered in the air. Every laugh was forced, every clink of goblets too loud, as though everyone in that room was just waiting for the moment when blood would spill across the table. I walked in at Magnus’s side, my shoulders squared, my expression carved from stone. Every eye turned to me, and though I wore the face of Ash, though the chains of disguise wrapped tight around me, inside I was Ember. And Ember was boiling.

It was a video, grainy, like it had been recorded in haste. Ember stared into the lens. Her face was bruised, but her eyes burned bright. “My name is Ember. I was created by Ash Phoenix as his final weapon. But I am not him. I don’t want war. I don’t want destruction. I want truth. I want family.” She paused. “Alma Sterling if you’re watching this, I need your help.” Ezra exchanged a look with Alma. “This could be bait.” Roman agreed. “Or a trap.”

“Asher, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what it was at first, I—” “You shouldn’t have been in here to start with!” Asher rarely yelled, but his voice had taken on a deadly tone. “I just wanted to know more about you,” she said, and stood up from the chair. “You had no right, Emerson! No right!” Asher stormed out of the room, and walked to the living room. He knelt in front of the fireplace, and started stacking kindling and balling up newspapers. Emerson stood behind him, watching his every move. He opened the matchbook and lit a match. The newspapers lit up immediately, the kindling crackling as the flames leaped around them.

I felt the corner of my lips tug up as I saw her name. Ember: How is it you always seem to know when something's wrong? She gave me an inquisitive emoji beside it. Me: I have my ways. Tell me what's going on. I want to help with whatever it is. Ember: It broke… I'm certain Ash's barrier broke. I don't know how to help him. I've spent most of my evening in the library in my kingdom. I haven't found anything to extract dark magic. I thought of doing what my mom did and sucking the magic from him. If I did that though he wouldn't have any magic and I would be the one consumed by the darkness.

"And tired men make emotional choices. Emotional men destroy empires." ​"She isn't an emotional choice," I said. My voice sounded raspy, hollowed out by three days of running on caffeine and cold sweat. "Seraphina has been loyal to this family. She kept the Blackwood account intact when everyone else panicked. She bled for us." ​Harrison leaned back in his leather chair, the dim lamp catching the silver at his temples. He looked at me not with anger, but with a cold, devastating pity that made my gut clench.

Just then, a small head peeked through the suffocating smoke. “Madam, do you need any help?” someone asked timidly. I forced my eyes open and saw a young boy who was about the same age as my son. He was covered in ash and dirt, but his eyes shone brightly through the smoke. He was so small in size, yet he managed to muster the strength to help me up. Then, together, we slowly made our way outside. The path to the outside was incredibly challenging, and I felt like giving up several times.

If she had a puppy that is. “OH. MY. GOD” she yelled. Em was afraid to ask because she thought she already knew… “WHAT?!” “OH. MY. GOD” Aspen repeated. “WHAT!!!” “You would… not believe” Aspen began. “What. Did. Asher. Do”. Em replied. “You will never….” “Believe? What Asher? Did?” Em was saying. “That idiot…..” Aspen couldn’t speak in complete sentences apparently. “Asher?” Said Em. “He let ….”

Satisfied, he grasped her hand, pulling her along, and the two of them went on together to join with their companions in their merriment. *** Damascus was a small town northeast of Elkshire. Located deep in the southernmost forests of Delphi, set on the far side of the river which flows up through Sa'ar to the North Sea from its origin on the Royal Mountain Chain, Damascus was a town of little worldly significance. It was, however, the home of one Eliezer Horatio Webber, the Kingsmen Ambassador who had left his property in the care of his friend, Ignatius Eldstrom, a kindhearted emigrant from Euphess who was, also, a skilled metal worker and devoted Kingsmen.

Around midnight she reached the section describing Meher's gradual decline. The whispers. The forest. The growing suspicion. The fear. A knot formed in her stomach. She kept reading. Then came the murder. The rain. The clearing. Meher's final words. I have only loved you. Aisha closed the notebook abruptly. The room felt too warm. For several moments she simply sat there staring at nothing. The tragedy struck harder than she expected. Not because it was real. Because it wasn't. Somehow that made it worse. A fictional murder should not have felt devastating.